the Apostate
by bluenight17
Summary: Apostate: someone who has rejected a political or religious belief or allegiance, often owing to disillusionment. ex: Julian the Apostate. Answer to Lord Silvere Challenge. Enjoy.
1. Apostate I

**The Apostate**

_Apostate_: 1. someone who has rejected or renounced a religious or political belief or allegiance often owing to disillusionment. 2. An epic tale told by bluenight17.

Disclaimer: I'm a guy. Rowling's a woman. How could we be the same person?

On with the tale.

1. Ooooh. What does **this** button do?

It was a lonely time to be Harry Potter. Residing once more in the smallest bedroom at #4 Privet Drive, he was left alone with letters and memories. Memories, specters really. The face of an old friend and trusted mentor drifted tauntingly in front of his eyes. He wished things could have been different, but realized they couldn't. Snape could never have really reformed.

Distantly he remembered Dumbledore telling him that Snape had saved his life to square things with the memory of James Potter. He also remembered Dumbledore telling him that saving a man's life created a powerful magical bond between them. He snorted softly as he thought about what a fool he'd been. Of course Snape hadn't saved him out of a sense of honor, he held honor in contempt. No, it must have been the magic of the Life Debt compelling him to save Harry's life.

Idly he glanced at the newspaper laying crumpled on the floor. How could he have ever seen this as a war between good and evil? When was a war ever that simple? No one could deny Voldemort was evil, not even the man himself. But was the ministry any better? Not one man there seemed to care for the good of the people they were supposed to protect. Even Arthur Weasley would rather tinker with muggle toys. The new minister was almost as bad as the old one, locking up people for good ratings. Well at least he'd taken care of that.

The Horcruxes were another problem. Six of the wretched things and only two accounted for! When he thought about it he realized that if you broke off a chunk of your soul, you should lose some of your magic with it. After all, magic was the tapping of your soul's power. The diary and the ring had powers all their own, powers having nothing to do with the multitude of enchantments placed on them. Did this mean that having a seven-part soul gave him a power boost to offset the loss? Perhaps it even enhanced his power some, seven being such a powerful number. If this was true, it stood to reason that destroying Horcruxes could weaken Voldemort. Maybe even to the point where Harry would be his equal. This at least, he could answer. All he'd have to do is ask Hermione the next time he saw her.

Content for the moment he lay back on his bed and tried to get some sleep. The Dursleys, thank god, were too cowed by the knowledge that he could use magic freely in a few days to try anything. He-with-the-overly-hyphenated-name was less quiet, launching a series of hit-and-fade raids across muggle and magical England. The population of the wizarding world, or 'the sheep' as Harry preferred to call them, had taken to looking over their shoulders, expecting to see dopey-looking skull masks on psychotic inbreeds. Their only hope came in their heroes, the noble Rufus Scrimgouer and the much beloved Harry Potter. The two men who would see them through.

Tom Riddle was having a good day. Actually, he was having a good week. His mortal enemy was dead and all that stood in his way were a power-hungry government flunky and a hormonal teenager. He'd lost the services of his only spy in the order to secure the old man's death, but it was worth it! Not that he'd mentioned this to said spy as he tortured him for revealing himself when it was unnecessary.

Recruitment was soaring as he started giving many of his victims a join-or-die offer. It was very good for him that wizards are such cowards; he couldn't take over the world with thirty men could he?

Poor Dumbledore, a decade spent preparing, and this is what he had to show for it? Voldemort lost nothing, and gained much as his non-name passed into legend. The light, on the other hand, were pathetically weak. Not one of them had any fire left, save a few relics who haven't been young men since three wars ago. He couldn't believe how ineptly the government had been put together. In the old days, a squadron of heavily armed aurors would have been at the scene of his resurrection before he'd finished gloating, now it took them a year to realize he was back. As a young recruit arrived to report on the last raid, he sighed very softly. He almost pitied the fools. Almost being the operational word.

Minerva McGonagall was having a bad week. Not the sort of bad week you and I might have that would make us wish the week was over. No, she was having the kind of week that made someone want to lie down on a stretch of railroad tracks and wait for sweet oblivion. Voldemort had gone from being relatively quiet to doing five or six raids a night with no apparent effort. The muggle Prime Minister was close to being sacked on account of all the mysterious deaths. Of course, he knew what was happening and now showed at the Ministry regularly to shout and sputter and demand results. Not that this had anything to do with McGonagall, but it shows how desperate everyone was.

She had honored Albus by reacting to his death the way he'd have wanted, she cried, said goodbye, and moved on, taking command of the order and screening for more spies. Sometimes she wondered how he'd run the order and the school simultaneously. Then she remembered the young man she'd met in a tent those many years ago and stopped wondering, he always was energetic. More than that, he'd kept the order together with his calm leadership and wealth of quiet connections. But now he was dead and it fell to her to finish what he started. The irony being, she didn't even know how he planned to do it. All she knew was that his plans revolved around the orb in the Department of Mysteries and young Harry Potter. She prayed his faith in the boy wasn't misplaced.

End first chapter.

There you have it folks, a quick who's who. Click the little 'review' button and tell me what you think. Love it, Hate it, whatever. I'll try to update at least once a week, but only if I hear that enough people want more.

This ends the first chapter, God save the commonwealth, world without end, Auf Widersen.


	2. Apostate II

Well, I'm back. Despite the best attempts of a legion of teachers, I stand on the literary battlefield and extend my greetings to all my brethren. Also to the hanger-ons who read but never write. Oh well, let the battle commence. To Work! To Work!

Disclaimer: Hey. Didn't we go over this last chapter? Get a life.

And Here Their Problems Begin.

Bellatrix sat down and thought about her life. Strange as that sounds for everyone's favorite poster girl for the raving fanatic. Which, in truth, was just her problem. She was dearly devoted to the Dark Lord, she had once believed she loved him. He was so powerful, yet polite and occasionally tender. Yet he was not the Robin Hood like figure he had been those many years ago. He had changed. Gone were the small smiles, the noble destruction of a corrupt system, the martyr. In his place was a monster worthy of every child's darkest nightmares. She no longer feared and respected Lord Voldemort, she just feared him. He no longer had even the warped sense of honor she had adored in him.

There was a time when she had a friend she could confide in. Someone she could trust unreservedly. But he was lost to her, again. Once, she had lost him when he fled the family estate. Twice, when she had told him of her increasing crush on the Dark Lord, she would never forget the disgust on his face. The third and final time came when she herself had ended her cousin's life. But even his death couldn't make the hurt of his betrayal go away.

She couldn't go back. If she continued with Voldemort she would certainly die. Either way, it seemed her life was nearly over. She'd killed dozens for a cause she no longer believed in, for a man she knew now that she didn't love. She didn't believe either in the propaganda stating the Lord wasn't as pure as he said, but not believing in him was almost as great an offense. Her life was over.

Unless… A daring plan flashed across her brain. A very daring plan. One she wouldn't even consider if she wasn't completely against the wall. She sat up and started making plans. It would take time, but she would seek out Harry Potter. If everything went perfectly she just might get a chance at a memorable farewell to Voldemort.

* * *

The world had gone mad. After the destruction of the Ministry building, wizarding society was generally falling apart. The surviving Lords had gotten together to elect an interim Minister, but he had thus far proved ineffectual, too busy trying to salvage a government to actually run a country. She'd heard rumors that the fool figurehead had commissioned a new building, underground to prevent more bombings and accessed by one of the elevator devices that were coming into style. She couldn't help but scoff at such a sad attempt to rally support.

On good thing to come of the Ministry bombing was that England's magical community was finally getting involved in the war that had surrounded them for the last year. The enemy had no problems with the judicious application of magical units and they were having the tar beat out of them. Much like the Russians, who were so out of touch with their magical community she doubted a wizard there would know there'd been a revolution. Just days ago she'd gotten a new headache as the Germans unveiled their latest trick, Heinkel bombers with wizards aboard shielding them from harm. There was only one of these for every five regulars, but it took much sustained fire to down them. Fortunately, one wizard at least, had enough of a head to develop a counter-tactic.

"Ah, Minerva. A pleasure to see you again. How has the peace been treating you?" Said the red-haired wizard in the basement of an old house. They'd been using the second-floor room at Berkley Square as a headquarters before, but decided to move after the bombing of the Ministry.

"Much better than the war, Albus. But it seems to have started all over again. I had to skip my Mastery tests as there isn't a testing center anymore. Also, all these green kids are starting to get on my nerves." The last was said with a pointed glare at the young auror in the corner who was gazing at Dumbledore and trying desperately to look professional and keep the star-struck look out of his eye.

"Forgive Alastor, he is young and impatient, I remember a time when you couldn't wait to get out from behind a desk and see some action."

"At least I had the necessary combat-training. I understand the desperate need the Order has for more wands, but aurors are peacekeepers, not soldiers. Incidentally, good work on those enchanted flack shells, The Germans have a few less mages than they did yesterday."

"Good. Good. Now if only we could discover how their U-boats are slipping past our proximity wards. The wards themselves haven't been tampered with, so it can't be curse-breakers. Perhaps Lord Grindelwald has discovered another way to circumvent wards?"

"He certainty doesn't lack for cunning. Until we know how it's done all supply ships from the New World will be endangered."

Then the rookie auror spoke up. "Do the wards only extend to a certain depth? It wouldn't be hard to magically augment a sub's hull to allow it to go below crush-hull. Then they could just slip underneath without setting off the wards."

McGonagall, for all her gruff, couldn't help but be impressed. "It would be possible, and easy. Of course, if that's how it's done we'll have to remove and reset the entire North Atlantic grid. Most of the wards would be useless for the months that would take. Can we take the risk of blinding ourselves to their surface navy?"

"The British Navy have been locating and destroying surface ships for centuries, Minerva. They can afford to do it the old-fashioned way for a bit. Right Now I'm far more concerned about the u-boats. Alastor, could you take Castor and Pollux Prewett and make that your project for the next few months?"

Alastor acknowledged his new mission with a nob and walked quickly from the room. Minerva shook her slowly and wondered if she'd ever been that young.

"And what's my mission, Albus?"

"For now, going home and getting some sleep. You were up late last night and you'll be up late this one. Intel reports Lord Von Bauernauch will be joining the attack tonight. We have a rare opportunity to strike at one of Grindelwald's inner circle, we dare not let it pass."

* * *

Some fifty years later, a young man opened one eye to stare at the ceiling. There was no aunt screaming at him to wake, no worries of a future without the man who'd guided him so far. For the moment there was just him and a pale spot on the ceiling. He was content. Of course, such moments are both rare and fleeting. This one was broken by a smart rapping on the window. He let in the owl, paid it, and took the paper. He didn't need to look to know the headline, it was assured by a deal he'd made with the devil. None the less, he glanced at the front page and quickly discovered why so few make those deals. In distant Calcutta, life was interrupted by a young man's scream of rage.

end chapter two.

There you go, another masterpiece chapter. Now let me square some things with my reviewers.

**Stealing Peoples Mail;** You will find few clichés here. I might have to use one or two as demanded by plot, but I plan for this to be all-original, all-new.

**Possum132:** And you will have it. I'd skip straight to the action now if I didn't feel obligated to set up a plot. For the first ten chapters or so I'll be two busy rewriting world history and setting stage for the greatest free-for-all ever conceived of.

For the rest of you: Push the button down there and tell me what you think. Love it or hate it, I'm still writing and haven't figured out all the details of what's to come. If I hear a real good idea I just might run with it and put your name in the creds.

I have only just been informed, by my loving sister, that I am crazy. This is a terrible development for the characters in my story as I control their every word, thought, and action. My sister would like me to state that I'm writing this on my own and although we share a penname, she wants nothing to do with the plot I've cooked up. Don't blame her for my insanity, blame her for her own. Thank you, and have a nice day.


	3. Apostate III

Well! Nothing like good reviews to light a fire under a guy's ego. I think I've got my divider issue settled. And yes, I am going somewhere with the WWII sequence. All will be revealed at the proper time.

He should'na done that.

He'd kill him. Rip out his guts and garrote him with them. Throw him into the Thames, or maybe just strangle his slimy politician's neck. Fudge had been a nuisance but Scrimgoeur had gone too far.

And he'd helped him do it. By being so trusting. So naïve. He'd given the heartless thing the political capita he'd needed to pull this off. And Scrimgoeur hadn't even stuck to the terms of their deal.

There was no denying it, Harry Potter was pissed. He threw the newspaper onto the desk where any unseen observers in the room might read it.

**Dark Creatures Outlawed!**

_In a long overdue move, Rufus Scrimgoeur, the Minister of Magic, pushed through legislation banning all inherently evil beasts. Perceval Weasley, a rising star in the Ministry explained the new legislation in a Ministry Press Conference._

"I would just like to tell the people of Great Britain that the new act will go a long way towards keeping us all safe. As of this moment, any werewolf, vampire, giant, siren, sorcerer, necromancer, or half-breed variety of these on our soil do so as burdens on the Ministry of Magic and likely spies of the Dark Lord. All such found on our isle will be detained by the ministry in a special prison being constructed as we speak. By ensuring the bulk of the Dark Lord's followers and those most likely to follow him are safely locked away, this administration has gone further than any other in ensuring the safety of the British people. That is all.

_But has the Ministry gone too far? The motion appears almost unanimously adored as the most daring move undertaken by a Minister this century. Some, however, would disagree. Mathilda Marchbanks, noted Ministry tester openly scoffed at the act._

"Son, I've been around for a very long time. I've seen things you couldn't guess at. And I know, for a fact, that so-called 'Dark Creatures' are hardly the monsters the Minister's fairy-tales would have you believe."

_Scantly an hour later, Miss Marchbanks was taken into custody by a plainclothes auror for knowingly and willingly associating with a Dark Creature. She is being held now pending an inquiry. The Minister was unavailable for comment, but his secretary told us how 'very disappointed' he is in Marchbanks._

Harry restrained himself, with great difficulty, from screaming again. It wouldn't help anything and it wouldn't even make him feel better. Besides, he was sure people on the other side of the world heard that one.

Dumbledore wouldn't scream. Dumbledore would walk into the Ministry the very picture of calmness, barely restrained rage and power evident in his voice he would politely greet the Minister and equally politely demand what was going on. Okay, if Dumbledore could do it, so could he. The last time he'd talked with Scrimgoeur he'd held all the cards. That hadn't changed. The only question was if he'd really needed his support in the long term or just wanted it to get that bill passed.

* * *

Bellatrix was getting close. It had been difficult to track down Potter. She couldn't wait for him to go to school and couldn't go to Hogwarts anyway. If Dumbledore was still alive he just might've hired her to teach DADA, but he was dead.

All she knew about his summer arrangements was that he stayed with his Aunt and Uncle, the Dursleys, in a house warded so heavily even her former master hadn't dared to reach him there. And He was one of the world's most accomplished curse-breakers, having studied extensively in Asia. None of which helped her find the whelp.

Then she vaguely remembered the Muggle Studies course her parents had insisted she take to make it plain how superior wizards were. So, she looked in the phone book. No such thing existed in the wizarding world. Floo addresses didn't require special numbers. Besides what sane person would put all the information needed for a successful attack on their home in a book distributed to thousands of people? Sometimes the stupidity of these muggles awed her.

So here she was, prepared to take the plunge. If she read these wards correctly, there would be painful consequences for anyone the wards deemed a threat. She only prayed Dumbledore had created the wards with independent reasoning as opposed to just giving it a list of people who weren't permitted. Or he could have done both, in which case she was in trouble. As she screwed up the courage to take that risk, it suddenly occurred to her that, wards or no wards, Potter wouldn't be unguarded. She cast a quick invisibility charm that would hide her for five minutes. Then she closed her eyes, held her breath, and stepped.

* * *

Minerva McGonagall was sitting in the office that was now hers, lost in her memories of an old friend, when a small light, subtly placed over the door, started pulsing gently. Now what kind of alarm light would Albus place where only he could see it? The only alarms she knew of were ward-based, but the Hogwarts ward indicator was on the desk. Where else…Harry! The wards on the Dursleys house couldn't be removed, they must have fired on some intruder. A wizard, no doubt, without one of the special pendants that allowed wizards onto Harry's street. She recalled that Fletcher was on watch today, to keep him from gumming up anything important. She prayed for Harry's sake it was just another crazed fan.

* * *

'Dung' Fletcher was suddenly stirred from a wonderful dream involving himself and a beautiful woman. Well, perhaps 'stirred' isn't the best word. 'Shocked by the amulet on his neck' would be better. He got to his feet, cursing the small self-aware piece of metal, and noticed how hot it had gotten. Someone tripped the wards! If he didn't get to the edge of them before the intruder recovered enough to escape, McGonagall would have his head. He pulled off the cloak, reasoning that he looked muggle enough and that secrecy wasn't really his problem, and ran to the scene.

But where he expected to see someone sprawled on the ground, he saw…nothing. He or she couldn't have escaped. He stepped out from behind the ward and started looking around frantically. Perhaps they'd crawled into the bushes over there… Then everything went black.

Bella looked down at the unconscious man in front of her. He was wearing an amulet on his neck, to exclude him from the wards, she assumed. She put it around her own neck and hesitantly stepped through again, expecting the pain again. Nothing. She glanced again at the man.

"Thank you, friend." Then she banished his still form into a hedge.

End of chapter three

I will say this again, review! I'm still making up a lot of this as I go. Staying within the rules of the challenge.


	4. Apostate IV

I'm so sorry! I know I defaulted on my promise to update. Owing to certain problems I'm just starting this chapter from scratch for the **Fourth** time.

He started it.

Bella sauntered up the front walk of NO. 4 Privet Drive. If there was one thing the Dark Lord had taught her, it was that a little confidence could make you seem so much more powerful. She'd need every edge she could get. Doubtlessly, the boy's guardians had been alerted to possible intruders and were ready and willing to defend their charge with their lives.

She rapped sharply on the door before blasting it into splinters. After all, proper etiquette must always be observed when visiting someone's home. Inside, she was treated to the amusing sight of some women/mule crossbreed trying, and failing, to shelter a massive lump of asymmetrical flesh with her own puny body. She sneered at them to hide her own puzzlement. The hope of the wizarding world lived here? If not for the wards and the guard, she'd have thought she had the wrong address. All doubt was dispelled, however, when the golden child himself appeared at the top of the stairs, taking cover behind a corner. Good, the boy had learned something from their last meeting.

"Potter, I know you won't believe me, but I'm not here to hurt you, or anyone for that matter. But I confess those muggles in the kitchen are tempting me." To prove her point, she tossed her wand to one side and slowly raised her hands. He petrified her and bound her with magical ropes before leaving his cover. He was taking no chances, so much the better.

"You'll forgive me if I find that hard to believe Lestange. Accio Veritaserum!" After a small vial flew into his hands, he dripped a few drops down her throat and sat back. She told him everything, from joining with Voldemort years ago to leaving the ranks less than an hour ago. From her first crush on Voldemort to the terrifying reality of being the Dark Lord's favorite plaything. Throughout her long confession, Harry Potter stared at her impassively, checking every so often that the truth serum was still working. When she was done, he gave her a counter, and stared at her.

"Bella, you've done a great deal of evil things, most of which you still don't recognize as being evil. I'm not your judge, and I'm not your preacher. I can't condemn you and I can't forgive you for your crimes. I can protect you, but one more misdeed and you will not have that protection. Do we understand each other, you and I?" She nodded and spoke.

"I, Bellatrix Black-Lestange do swear on the honor of my family, the Most Ancient and Noble House of Black, that I will not commit any deed contrary to goals of Harry Potter for so long as I live. I will never betray his secrets to any other, even if should I part ways with him. I will not kill save in defense of myself, others, and the honor of myself and my benefactor. I swear all of these things on pain of death at the hands of Leto, patron goddess to the House of Black. This I hereby swear." Harry quirked an eyebrow, a habit he'd picked up from Hermione.

"That's quite a speech."

"I didn't want there to be any doubt in your mind."

"Fair enough, you'd better stay here for a bit. I'm going to meet the Minister."

The Prime Minister of Great Britain was alone in his office. He'd gently and politely thrown everyone else out in preparation for a very special visitor. He'd done it a little early, albeit, because he always felt he needed a couple of minutes to relax and prepare for this man. At the appointed hour, the fire in his fireplace turned a bright emerald green and spat out a red-haired man.

"Albus, it's good to see you again. When I heard about La Rochelle I doubted I'd see you again."

"It will take significantly more than a blood-boiling curse and a few bullets to the leg to bring me down. I should be cleared for combat duty again within the week. On a better note, the Germans lost fifty men, including some of their most talented enchanters. The construction of the sub-shelters has been set back a few weeks."

"Good, good. I'm afraid I have bad news. The ship _Hood_ was lost with all hands on a standard patrol. A radio message dispatched from the _Hood_ spoke of a massive ship, flying German colors, shelling them from an impossible distance. At the moment, it's become the Navy's top priority to locate and sink this ship. Are your proximity wards still down?"

"Quite, and they will be for at least two months time. I'll post a few of my people on your ships, under the cover of new officers. Hopefully they can find your ship using locating charms. Unfortunately, the charms have a limited area of affect, and they could use magic to conceal themselves from it. You'd be better of using that useful radio locating system."

"Sometimes I wonder how we'd get by without you."

"Minister, you shouldn't believe in wizards, at least, not as much as you believe in yourself."

"Are you always full of platitudes or is today something special?"

"I usually am, but now that you mention it, my brother Aberforth's birthday is next week."

"Be sure to wish him a happy birthday from me. Goodbye, Albus."

"Goodbye, Minister." And Winston Churchill was alone again.

End chapter four.

Again, sorry I took so long. A few reviewers got their answers here. For those that didn't…

**Perceval23:** I'm going to assume that there's some unpleasant history between Bella and Andromeda. Besides, can you imagine the Tonkses protecting her from Voldemort? Andromeda would be a red smear and Bella would have some explaining to do. But you are right, Tonks and most of the Order are going to have some serious problems with the new law.

**Lord Silvere:** I didn't actually plan on making this AngryHarry. But I neened a pretext for some of the stuff I'm planning, and I figure Harry's entitled to me mad about a few things. There will be some conflict between an ultra-conservative Scrimgoeur and a comparatively free-thinking Harry. And I plan to take this opportunity to bash Liberals and Conservatives alike. Well, okay, I _might_ bash the Conservatives a little more.

Well, That's all, folks! _Looney Toons music_.


	5. Apostate V

Arrrgggggggghhh! My home computer doesn't have a word processor anymore so I can't update on the weekends and have defaulted again on the chapter-a-week promise. Almost makes you wish there was some punishment involved more than my feeling bad about leaving you hanging. Enough about me, the show must go on.

He only has himself to blame.

It isn't easy to lead a nation. There are a thousand small factions with their own agendas, most of them mutually exclusive, and you can't just wave a wand and give everyone their wish. Ironic, for a nation of wizards. Even the best intentioned leaders are forced to make too many compromises, cut too many deals. This is why politics is legendary as a corrupting influence.

But not today, thought Rufus Scrimgoeur as he settled into his chair. Today he had struck a great blow for the freedom and safety of his people and for once, no one could object. Well, no one of any significance, there were always crazies going on about werewolf rights and other garbage, but the people generally ignored these deluded fools. Yes, this had been the boldest and best move of his career and Rufus Scrimgoer felt good.

The good felling lasted most of the way through his celebratory wine. Then he was interrupted by his secretary, a prissy woman whose name he could only recall half the time, she looked more excited than he'd seen her since the destruction of Bristol. This could only mean trouble. "What is it?"

"Harry Potter is in the outer office, and he looks upset." Upset? What would the boy have to be upset about? The Ministry hadn't done anything that could affect the boy since…Wait, wasn't there an article a few years back about him being friends with werewolves and giants? And about him speaking the serpent's tongue? He should know, he'd spent months trying to track the auror who spoke to the _Prophet_, only to have the investigation pulled when Potter-bashing became official policy. Well, this should be interesting.

Harry Potter walked into the room, robes billowing in a way only someone who spent years watching Snape could pull off. His secretary was right, he didn't look happy.

"Minister, you may recall a certain bargain that was made last month? I would issue a statement giving my support to the Ministry in the war effort and assuring the British populace. In return, I was to see, the next time I opened the _Prophet_, a statement from you clearing several people you wrongfully imprisoned and apologizing to them. I have seen no such statement. Please tell me, how can this be so?"

"Try page eight, Potter, I've held up my end. It might have even made the first page, but they had more interesting things to report."

"Ah yes, the story about the stupidest thing ever done by a Minister. Tell me, you must realize all you're going to do is inspire hatred and genocide? And the survivors will be forced into Voldemort's ranks, as their only chance of survival?"

"They're dark creatures! They'd join him anyway, it's only natural! All I'm doing is striking first, before they have a chance to kill more of us!" Scrimgoeur took a deep calming breath.

"Look Potter, I've heard about your 'friends', if they can be called that. They don't have to be hunted down and killed, as long as they can accept our reasonable terms for their existence."

"And what might those be?"

"That they be tagged and neutered."

"Tagged? Neutered! You're talking about them like they're animals!"

"Because that's what they are, animals. Dangerous animals. You try telling a sobbing mother that it's not their fault they went for a moonlight stroll or got a sudden urge for violence. They're animals, and I'll do anything I have to ensure that the people I swore to protect are safe from them. Unless you have a problem with me doing my sworn duty, get out of my office and stop wasting both our time!"

"I have a problem, Minister, because your sworn duty is immoral. It will cause much pain and death that could have been avoided. It might even cost you the war. I cannot and will not support a ministry that would allow this. I hereby withdraw my support."

"Go right ahead. I don't need it anymore. But I won't have you spreading doubt and indecision now. Your presence has become burdensome and counter productive to the war effort, divisive to the people. In two hours, a warrant will be issued stating that Harry Potter is a confirmed parselmouth and enemy of the state. That gives you two hours to pack your bags and say your goodbyes, If we ever see you back here…"

"Straight to Azkaban on your trumped-up charges. I've done this dance before. Just keep in mind that you only have yourself to blame for what happens to you while I'm gone." With that, he turned on his heel and angrily strode out. Because his back was turned, He missed Scrimgoeur's triumphant grin.

Minerva McGonagall's week had gone from the kind of week where you toyed with the idea of suicide, to the kind where you actually consider it. Overnight, a quarter of the organization had become outlaws, and the others all would be, if the Order were discovered. And all relations with other species had been brutally severed. None of them would consider fighting to preserve the Ministry now, and Minerva wondered why she was, until she remembered all the innocents who would die if the Ministry collapsed. Invariably these thoughts gave her a minutes strength before fading.

She was just wondering what they would do now when the doorbell rang. She looked quickly across the room. Everyone was present and accounted for, Snape couldn't have betrayed the location of HQ due to Fidelius, who was at the door. She drew her wand and walked up to it as it rang again. She looked through the peephole Moody installed (not that he needed it) and couldn't stop the gasp. The hope of the wizarding world and the most notorious killer in said world, were on their doorstep.


	6. Apostate VI

Okay, a few things to get squared before I begin:

I **am** going somewhere with the WWII stuff. Where will be revealed later. For now it's my little salute to the character of Albus Dumbledore. Besides, how often do you get a chance to rewrite history like this.

No one is going to try and arrest Dumbledore: **He's Dead!** Dumbledore only exists in this story in the form of flashbacks. Sorry if this confuses you.

I'm sorry about the absence of pagebreaks, the document page won't record them when I change the document and won't load the breaks normally. Assume lines with no test to be breaks. Thus.

I'm sixteen and trying to write an original fanfic, for those of you who are sick and tired of Harry's tearfully reading a letter from his parents and similar clichés. I'm making a lot of this up as I go along, though I have an idea where I'm going with it all. Please review to tell me what you want in a story and what you think I'm doing wrong. Don't flame me, I appreciate _constructive_ criticism, if you want Shakespeare, read _Othello_.

As I see it, the defining characteristic of a generation is it's war(s). Notice there's never one without at least one. Wars, especially in the twentieth century, have distinct flavors to them. So, a breakdown of the generations.

**WWI**: Albus Dumbledore, McGonagall.

**WWII**: Flitwick, Moody.

**Start Cold War/Korea: **Hagrid, Riddle (Voldemort), Arthur and Molly Weasley.

**Tail Cold War/Vietnam**: MWPP, Lily, Snape.

**End Cold War:** I stink at math but I believe Voldemort fell within a few years of the Berlin Wall.

So that puts Albus at around a hundred years at the time of his death. Minerva nearing a hundred, Flitwick and Moody in the region of sixty-seventy. Hagrid, the Weasley elders and Voldemort would be fifty or so and the Marauders, Lily and Snape would be around thirty or forty. Sound fair?

On the boats and on the planes…

Have you ever had one of those moments when your mind seems to race faster than sound but also seems to have come to a full and complete stop, unable to think past some object of astonishment? Minerva McGonagall, new Headmistress of Hogwarts, new leader of the Order, was having just such a moment as she stared at a boy and the woman he'd sworn to kill at one point.

Her mind picked up on all the little things. She noticed Harry's huge clothes and ratty sneakers, his messy hair, and even his posture, which didn't seem that of a prisoner or hostage. She also noticed that she had a wand out while he had none. Then she saw the strangest thing of all, Bella said something and Harry laughed. He laughed. She took a deep breath, tightened the grip on her wand and opened the door.

"Bella you should put the wand away. You're going to scare them and make them suspicious."

"More than they already will be with me appearing right at the door of their headquarters? Disregarding that their HQ is the house I grew up in. What a brilliant arrangement, I'd suggested to the Dark Lord some months ago that this would be a good place for him to run the war from. What genius thought of this?"

"Maybe Dumbledore, most likely Sirius. I'm sure it appealed to his sense of irony."

"Ah yes. He would do something like that. It amazes me that he didn't get himself killed soo-"

"Bella, I took you in out of the kindness in my heart and a determination to be the better man. Don't push your luck."

"Sorry. But at some point we're going to have to discuss this in length."

"That we will. Put the wand away."

"I'm just preparing for the inevitable."

"And what's inevitable?"

"One of these chickadees picking a fight and me slaughtering them to a man."

Harry laughed. "Didn't that drunk that made a pass at you satisfy your bloodlust for a bit?"

"Hey, he's still alive. He should even be able to walk again in a few short months. Drinking, I doubt he'll be able to do again. Same with having kids."

Harry laughed again. "You're so cruel. Try to be polite and not curse until someone else does it first."

Then the door opened and they walked inside.

The old place hadn't changed much, but the general air of gloom and doom was worse than ever before. They saw a lot of glum and suspicious faces, most of them directed at Bella as members tried to discreetly draw their wands. A sharp glare from Harry and most stopped.

"Before you ask, Bella came to me seeking protection from the Dark Lord. I questioned her under Veritaserum and have confirmed that she her defection is genuine. Anyone who has a problem with that can take it up with me." It was a testament to how beaten the Order was that no one protested. They all just went back to moping. Harry saw a distraught Lupin and a sobbing Tonks hugging each other. He couldn't let this continue.

"All right people. It seems most of us are no longer welcome here. Fine. We can't do much good here. The only smart move left to us is to leave, regroup, grow strong and come back when we're ready to take Voldemort regardless of Ministry meddling."

"Are you crazy Potter?" shouted one of the Order's smartmouths. "We can't abandon England."

"We aren't. The only way to save England is to leave it for a bit. Train and make other alliances. Voldemort won't stop if he gets England, he'll take the entire world. Convince them of this and might still win."

"He's right, you know" said Lupin "If any of you get caught with me, you're in for life. I'll go with Harry wherever he goes."

"Count me in to." Said Tonks, "Someone has to be the adult and keep you out of trouble."

"And I suppose you're it? God help the lad. I have a few friends in France, they might be able to help." Piped up Moody. He gave a pointed look to McGonagall.

"I appreciate what you're doing, but I won't run. I can't leave Hogwarts or it will be closed or put entirely under the Ministry's thumb. I'll stay."

In the end, about a quarter of the Order opted to remain. The others would disperse across the globe to warn all about the dire threat of Voldemort. Harry said he had a couple of stops to make before his team, consisting of Remus, Tonks, and Bella, left. He looked around, considering this might be the last time he saw the place, shook McGonagall's hand to show their were no hard feelings, and apparated away. His team looked at each other and Tonks hesitantly asked, "Where are we going?"

Bella smiled and said "America."

Another week another chappie. Boy this writing business is harder than I make it look. Click the magic review button and tell me what you think.


	7. Aposate VII

I'm back! After finals, essays and other trials I have returned to you. I think I'm going to chuck my earlier promise. A chappie a week isn't so unreasonable, but it's more than I can even usually deliver on. I'll just try to update as soon as possible. Now for my responses.

**Ivan the terrible:** America's my home; I think I can write it a bit better than England. No, America will not be a utopia of any kind in my fic, they'll just have different problems.

**Underdark Ranger:** your wish is my command.

Thanks to everyone that sent me dates, I won't change them and give myself a headache like that, but it's nice to know you care.

The land of the free, and the home of the Patriots.

Harry was enjoying his first non-magical flight. Having never gone anywhere with the Dursley's, he'd never sat in a plane before. He looked over at Bella, and was amused to see her looking like they'd fall from the sky at any time.

Bella. He was confused about her. A few hours ago, he'd have gladly killed her. Now he looked at her and felt… Well, he didn't know what he felt. When he laughed with her, saw her smile, he'd felt a stir in him he'd only ever felt looking at Chang. Well, that couldn't be it. Despite her pledge not to hurt anyone without reason, she was still an unrepentant psychotic killer. Which just made it funnier to see her so afraid now. She looked cute when scared. Arrgh! With that, Harry Potter turned to the window and drifted off.

!#$&()+

He woke up as the flight was landing at JFK. He looked again to Bella and saw she was glaring at him. "Why didn't we just take a portkey?"

"Getting there's half the fun."

"Don't be ridiculous, it's what you do when you get their that's fun."

"Try and keep your mass-murdering tendencies at bay till we get thru Customs. We don't want to cause a scene."

"How are we supposed to get in touch with the American government if we don't cause a scene?"

"I'm sure we'll think of a way."

They made it through Customs without major incident, though Harry did have to restrain Bella when she overheard a woman tutting to her friend about Bella's clothes. After wandering the city for a while, they found a street none of their fellow pedestrians could see and knew they'd found the New York equivalent to Diagon Alley.

They didn't see the expected robes but people in suits and dresses. The only way they'd have known it was magical at a glance were the signs and items in windowfronts. Even those were vastly different from the normal wizarding fare. For every item they could name, they saw five they couldn't. Harry swore he saw a device from Dumbledore's office being wrapped up by a smiling salesclerk.

They wandered around for a while, windowshopping and quietly asking passerby about the government. They were surprised to learn that the American wizards didn't have a separate government, but a department of the muggle one. All the magical beings on U.S. soil fell under the jurisdiction of the regular government and it's laws. This was especially bizarre to Bella who had trouble wrapping her mind around the idea of wizards obeying muggles.

Eventually they stopped in a bookshop to see if they could learn more about wizading America. It's history, what made it so different. It seemed even their magic was different. Harry found himself a little lost as he stared at the sections. "Cartomancy? Enchanting? Pagan Rites? Bella, do you have any idea what these are?"

"I think Cartomancy's some kind of Divinitation. Pagan Rite's are really old rituals, primitive and powerful. I have no idea about enchanting."

They tried to purchase a few books on everything only to find the store didn't take galleons. Reluctantly Harry went to a bank to exchange his galleons for dollars and returned to but all the books.

The two of them sent off Hedwig with a letter to a military wizard they'd heard of, a higher up in the administration. They were just leaving the street, named Penny Lane, when one more trinket caught Harry's eye. A watch with a sensitive dark detector in it. Figuring to replace the one he'd ruined two years ago. Harry walked into the store.

As soon as he drew near to the timepiece, it started beeping, it's face flashing. Immediately metal doors dropped down over all the doors and windows while powerful wards snapped up. The store keeper walked out from behind the counter, wand in hand and pointed at Harry.

"Wands on the floor! Feds are on the way! Nice and easy now. Let me see your art."

Harry, being Harry, was greatly confused. "What do you mean my art?"

"Artifact, talisman, whatever set off the watch. Put it on the floor."

"I don't have any artifacts or anything that could set that thing off! Maybe you should check it out, see that it isn't just going haywire."

"That's one of my best works. They don't 'go haywire'. Now I'm telling you for the last time, take out whatever dark thing you have and put it on the floor."

With terrible clarity, Harry realized what set the watch off. He made as though to exclaim it when the man saw him open his mouth and fired.

Even as the stunner hit him and he slumped forward, he was speaking. Bella caught him and heard him say. "It can't be. I'm the Horcrux"

Dun Dun Dunn. Sorry the chapter's so short. I just had to have that cliffie. Hit the button right here and tell me what you think. Till next time!


	8. Aposate VIII

I'm back! Sorry about not updating, my life's gotten just a little hectic right now. But never fear for I am determined to carry Apostate to its conclusion. Just as soon as I figure what and when that conclusion will be. And now, our feature presentation.

**Nine scariest words.**

Harry slowly, painfully came to. Or thought he came to. He was defiantly aware of himself, his surroundings consisted of a shapeless pink blob hanging over him. Then he felt his glasses slip onto his face and the blob became the face of Bella. The very angry face of Bella.

"I can't believe that man! If the aurors or whatever they call the local versions didn't show up, I'd have killed him! Where does he get off stunning everyone that wanders into the door?" She paused a moment, perhaps for air, as she was breathing very hard. Then she continued.

"And you! What were you thinking trying to touch something magical you knew nothing about! Have you learned nothing in six years of Hogwarts? And how do you know anything about Horcruxes?"

Harry groaned. In his opinion, he was barely up to coherent speech, much less getting the ninth-degree from someone who would have gladly killed him just a few days ago. All of which served to remind Harry that he had no idea where he was and how long he'd been out. "Uh, Bella, where are we?"

"Somewhere secure. That's all they'll say. 'somewhere secure.'"

"Who's they?"

"The local government. They took us here to find out what set off the gadget back there. And what two figures from Britain's ten most wanted list are doing wandering down Penny Lane in broad daylight. They're also pretty interested to know why they shouldn't just turn us over to the Ministry to face 'justice.'"

"Then we'll have to persuade them. First, though, we need to talk with them. Do you know how we do that?"

"Couldn't you break through the door with wandless magic, summon our wands and fight our way to the high muck-a-muck's office?"

"Ehhh, no. I can't do wandless magic, yet. And slaughtering every American between here and there is probably not the way to get them talking. Couldn't you just ask?"

"Well, if you're going to take all the fun out of my life, I suppose we could just ask. Hey guard! He's awake we want to talk to your master! Don't just stand there looking like a stupid muggle, get to it!"

Harry considered telling her that insulting the guards probably wouldn't score them brownie points with whoever's in charge. Or that comparing someone to ninety-eight percent of the population probably isn't a very good insult. But the damage was done, the moment passed. Now all he could do was wait.

* * *

Across the mighty Atlantic, McGonagall's bad week seemed to be extending itself into a month. With the passing of the latest act, the Minister could do no wrong. And he intended to use that. While the rest of England oohed and aahed, he'd continued Fudge's legacy of difficult and ridiculous educational decrees to constrict the teachers of Hogwarts. The phrase 'squeezing blood from a stone' came to mind often. Scrimgoeur was squeezing blood from a stone castle. Three teachers had come to her already, saying that if the decrees were still in effect come September, they were out. She hoped it wouldn't come to that. Mostly because their replacements would be chosen by the Ministry. She tried to conjure an image of happier days to sooth herself, but her aged memory failed her. Perhaps it was time to look into a pensieve?

Okay I'm done. Please don't be mad at me for the short chapter. I have big plans and not enough time here to write them all. Another chapter is on the way and I promise you won't have to wait six months for it. Sheesh, you make one mistake…


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